


remember me like this, always

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, gosh it's pure fluff, kissing and implied fade to black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: It's a day that neither of them expect and yet one that they both need. A day to leave behind their pasts and forge a new future together.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Leia Organa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	remember me like this, always

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I've never given BobaLeia any true sappy fluff. So, I wrote this. Enjoy!

She’s barely awake when the emotions wash over her; the worry, the fear, the age-old guilt. The former princess of Aldreaan knows all of those emotions. She’s lived them every day since she’d been forced to watch her planet be destroyed.

But today, the feelings all coalesce into a far more localized dread, prompting her to speak. Leia shakes her head. “I don’t know, Boba. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“About what?” He doesn’t look up from where he’s busy assembling a new wrist gauntlet weapon of some sort. The parts had been delivered that morning and he’d wasted no time getting to work, before even bothering to put on any more clothes than the towel slung low over his hips.

But that’s Boba, Leia supposes. She could love the man and still be exasperated at his single-minded focus where work was concerned. Partly, she has to admit, because of the other factors clearly on display right now.

Not only is he incredibly handsome, he also has no idea he is. That has been a refreshing change for Leia, though it’s certainly not the only thing she has found pleasing about the bounty hunter that has become her lover, companion, and if she admits it to herself, her best friend.

Peacetime, after all, makes for strange bedfellows.

“Leia?” he asks, turning to face her. “Tell me?”

To anyone else, it might have sounded like a command. But Leia knows him well, knows all his little inflections and vocal signals that so many others would miss. She smiles, then, her worries forgotten. “Nothing.” She steps forward, so that she can rest her hands on his hips, her fingers playing with the edge of his towel.

His laugh is a deep rumble, low in his chest, like thunder. It’s something that can better be felt, not heard. It’s rare enough, even now, that Leia cherishes the moment, leaning against him. One of his hands strokes her hair. “I suppose I should have said good morning.”

“That would have been nice, but not necessary,” she replies, then presses a kiss to a scar on his chest. Out of all of the wounds on his body, that one is the only one she cherishes; it is the mark that changed everything.

When Lando had bought out Boba’s loyalty, away from Jabba, and in doing so, rescued Han, Boba had remained on for the term of his contract, acting as a bodyguard, first, and then, a friend, to Leia.

A friend she had badly needed, given that with Han and Lando firmly back in a relationship and Luke off on some new Jedi adventure, she had no one else.

But even if she’d seen him as a friend, she’d never been quite sure he saw her as anything else. Then, the day had come where he’d taken the blaster bolts meant for her. The first three had hit his hip. The last, his chest, in the small vulnerable place between plates of armor. That alone, perhaps, might have been enough to prove his affection, had both of them been other people. But Leia was a political figure, and had been for so long, that she had begun used to, though never pleased, with others suffering on her behalf.

No, what had made it all change was that when he had collapsed, he had whispered her name. And after she’d finished with the threat (befriending Boba had meant an awful lot of blaster practice), she’d knelt by his side and he had reached for her hand. Boba had said two words then, two words she would never forget.

_Remember me._

That was all he had asked. Not for her to say she loved him, not to ask her to save his life. All he had asked was to be remembered.

It was a small request, but for a man who had been alone for so long, Leia knew it had meant everything.

Now, two years later, she had no worries she’d ever forget him. His wounds had healed, though he moved slower now, with his mechanical leg no true replacement for the limb he had lost. It’s a good thing, Leia thinks, that I have enough work to keep him busy here on Coruscant, protecting me, and away from hunting.

Because although she knew she’d never forget him, she had yet to cease worrying that she’d lose him. If not to the ravages of time, then to his line of work.

With the task ahead of them today looming ever-closer, Leia’s fears only grow by the minute, ruining her ability to prepare. Her hair still hangs loose, a long curtain of chestnut locks, and her silver morning robe is far too short to appear in public.

Not that Boba complains about her clothing, of course. Instead his free hand trails down her back, sending shivers up her spine. “You’re worried about today.”

She nods.

“Don’t be.”

That makes her let out an exasperated huff.

He shakes his head. “I know. Telling you not to worry is a waste of breath. Would you prefer I distract you in other ways?” His hand trails lower, offering.

Though her face heats, she shakes her head. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You sound like me, princess.” He chuckles once more. Twice in one day may be a record. Then, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be in the ‘fresher. You’ll prepare better if I’m not around, I think.”

“But you already showered.”

One of his eyebrows quirks up. It’s jet-black still, unlike his hair, which is laced with silver. His scruffy beard remains dark too, hiding his age in an appealing way and hiding his face from security cams as well.

Few would know the bearded office assistance Leia has been courting is anything other than a bland citizen of Coruscant. Leia misses, sometimes, the smooth face of the man she had fallen for, when he still wore his helmet daily, when his skin was something only she saw. But this is whats best, for his safety, and for hers.

“What do you have to do in the ‘fresher?” Leia asks.

“Given today’s agenda, I thought a shave might be in order.”

Hours later, Leia is ready. Boba has already left the fresher and headed straight out into the hall, leaving her a note that he’d meet her at the agreed upon point. He’s given her the space she needs, which is appreciated by her more than words could say.

So much of her life has been spent in crowds and over-filled bases, that her solitude is a luxury. She lets the luxury extend to all of her tasks that day, until finally, there is no curl left unbraided, no bit of jewelry not in its correct place according to tradition.

This, they’ve decided, is the time, if not the location either of them would have wanted. But her home world is gone and it has been an eternity since he has had a home, so therefore, this simple hotel is a compromise made out of necessity.

Boba had suggested his ship. Leia had reminded him he still hadn’t updated the ‘fresher to include a place for her to wash her hair. Then, she’d offered to shave her head, just to watch him sputter.

“Not your hair,” he finally muttered.

“Why?” Leia had teased.

His face a very amusing and very, very rare shade of red, he’d replied, “it’s pretty.”

The bounty hunter allowed himself very few luxuries but she knew that her body, her hair, her touch, is all he needed to feel sated. Even now, thinking of his fingers running through her hair makes her heat up, her heart racing.

 _Stop it,_ Leia chided herself. _You are no blushing schoolgirl._

Though, as many times as she told herself that, all of those reminders fly away when she reaches the meeting point. Boba stands there, as he had promised he would, waiting for her. What she hadn’t expected was that he would shave. He cuts a fine figure, standing in that simple room, his dark silver and blue tunic his way of honoring the father he had only started to tell her about.

His face is rugged and stern, yet his expression turns gentle when his eyes catch hers. She wears a flowing white gown, white, for the first time in so long. She honors Alderaan in this, she thinks, because, in doing this, she is insisting that she still lives, that she still will go forward and forge a new path.

Boba honors his own past, Leia notes now. Just as she had dressed in the ways of her long-gone planet, he had dressed in the traditions left to him by his father. His face is clean shaven, as he had once told her all Mandalorians are on the day of their marriage. To face their future without hiding anything, he had said. To be honest and direct and engrave the future upon their bones.

When they have children, they will know of their heritage and their parent’s strange paths to reach this moment, Leia knows. But what she hopes is that their children will make the men who would be their grandfathers proud.

It’s for the sake of children they’re doing this. The messy legal bit is needed, even if not wanted, and both of them are good at doing what is necessary, even if it is not what is desired. It seems to Leia, in that moment, that the two of them are doing this so that their pasts can be put to rest, their old ways left behind, and so that they can forge a new life, together. She plans to step down from a government role, within the next few weeks. He plans to buy a farm, if he hasn't already. Together, they have made plans for a new, companionable and yet quiet, sort of life.

Neither one thinks that the quiet will last forever, but both of them are hoping the universe will grant them at least one peaceful year, if not two.

Leia ascends to stand by his side. She takes his hand. All her doubts, her concerns, fly away. She is here and she will be his wife. How strange a thought, and yet, how right.

A princess, the wife of a bounty hunter.

A Mandalorian, the husband of a Jedi.

They are opposites in so many ways. But together, they’ve found their own sort of harmony, she thinks. He is her rock, the unmovable being she desperately needs when all around her is politics and lies. And she is his light, something hopeful to strive for at the end of each long day.

She’d said she had a bad feeling about this day. But that wasn’t true. She had worried that somehow, the day would turn bad--that the universe wouldn’t let them, battle-worn old figures they were even at their relatively young ages, have this one moment of happiness.

And yet, for once, she was wrong. The stars smiled down on them as they leave the room, hand in hand. “That’s all, right?” Boba mutters. “Nothing else to do.”

“No, the droid will take care of everything else.”

“Still wish we’d gotten a non-metallic to do it.”

“You scared them all away, dear.”

Boba snorts. “Is that what you’re going to call me now?”

“Only in public.” Leia replies with a straight face. “I’ll call you Boba Sexy Pants when we’re alone.”

Boba freezes for a moment, before, for the first time, he lets out a true, sudden bark of laughter, loud and clear and completely unexpected. It’s a better wedding gift than any Leia could have expected. “What the hells,” he says, shaking his head, “have I just gotten myself into?”

“Oh, plenty of trouble, that’s for sure.” Leia reaches up, her hand on the back of his neck. Only there is his skin soft and smooth, unmarred by scars or calluses. It’s the soft, secret place that she presses kisses to while he sleeps. But right now, he is awake, so she kisses him squarely on his lips.

“And you haven’t gotten yourself into the same?” he asks, breaking the kiss for a moment. “Aren’t women like you supposed to avoid trouble?”

“Oh, Boba,” she shakes her head, kissing him once more, cherishing the feel of his lips against hers, his breath hot on her skin. Her dress is so thin that she can feel his rippling muscles, his racing heart, his desire for her. It’s intoxicating, a power trip quite unlike any she’s known. “There are no women like me.”

His lips curve into a smirk. “You can say that again.”

“Boba,” she says his name once more, this time far softer. “Can I ask something of you?”

“You mean beside that whole ‘to be your wedded spouse’ ask you just made?” He places his palm over the door, allowing it to open. He walks back into their room, pausing in his talking to carefully check his little traps and sensors to ensure no one has entered. “You’re getting awful pushy, princess.”

“Oh hush.” Leia flops onto the bed.

“See? You prove my point.” He sets down the last of the detectors and stalks toward her, a different sort of smile on his face now. It’s a hungry one, a private one, and it sends waves of anticipation through Leia like shockwaves.

“I wanted to ask,” she begins, as he moves onto the bed, rolling her under him. Leia looks up at him for one moment, enjoying the tenderness she sees in his expression, mirrored by the gentle way his strong hand strokes up her leg, pushing the fabric aside. It had shocked her, once upon a time, how gentle he could be, when he wanted to be. Now, it is simply another reason to love him. “if you would…” her breath catches as he kisses her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a still gentle, though slightly more feral way.

His calculated roughness is another aspect of him she loves equally. It’s that charatieric he shows off now, as his fingers undo her braids, remove her jewels, and leave her bare of all the trappings of royalty she wore one last time.

She was Leia of Alderaan but now she is someone else completely. She is the wife of Boba Fett. The certainty of that both thrills and terrifies her. She shivers, more from the knowledge than from any chill. “Boba,” she says again.

“Yes?” he asks.

“if you’ll… if we’re ever… if we don’t last. You’ll remember me, right?” her words mirror his from so long ago. What she means is if their future on a quiet farm never happens. If his work pulls him back into the shadows. If she loses him as she has lost all the other things she has held dear.

Now, it is he who kisses her, this time fiercely, possessively. His arms pull her closer, pressing their bodies together. He’s shaking, Leia notes, which has never happened before. “I marry you for life,” he whispers to her. “for all of this life and all of the eternity of the stars that comes after.”

The words are poetic and carry an ancient weight to them. She wonders, now, if this marriage had always meant this much to him and he had simply never spoken of it. How like him, Leia thinks, to be so sentimental in silence.

“Then, I marry you as well, for that same time span,” she fumbles a bit, trying to find words that feel at least half as grand as his. Words might be her career these days, but those words often are lies edged with truths and this moment requires all her honesty. “I shall be your wife, Boba Fett, until eternity ends and all the stars fall.”

“May it be so,” he whispers. Now she hears in his words the hint of that Mandalorian accent, the faint shadow of a culture he has never quite belonged to nor forsaken.

Leia whispers to him, then, leaving behind all poetic words and clinging to that promise she had made him the day everything had changed. “And I will never forget you.”


End file.
